Dalliance in Darkness ( Dalliance #1) (6 page)

James’ hand was steady in the way it explored me, the way his fingers brushed against my flesh even with just a thin piece of fabric in the way – it sent fire through my veins. It had been a long time since I’d been fucked, and though I didn’t want to tell him I wasn’t going to deny to myself the attraction I felt to him.

James leaned in closer, his lips only an inch or two away at best. “No,” he said in a husky voice. “You want me…” James slipped his hand down my panties, the ben-wa balls still in his grasp. “To put them inside of you, don’t you?” He knew the answer before he asked, he wasn’t an amateur. He was good. Damn good. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me say it, just the quiet pleasure of feeling how wet he was making me – how no matter how hard I could try to be coy that in my heart I was a complete pervert. A slave to the more refined pains and pleasures of life.

Cold, they were surprisingly cool to the touch as he slipped the ben-wa balls inside of me. But my wet lips wrapped around them easily, my walls hugging his fingers as he pushed them deeper inside of me. But there was a look on James’ face, as though he realized what he was doing. Something put him out of the zone. He carefully but quickly removed his fingers from my slit. “Sorry,” he muttered in apology.

I grabbed his hand. “Don’t be,” I said. “I wanted it,” and I always get what I want. I sucked the juices off his fingers before flashing him a small wicked grin and buttoning my pants back up. My approval didn’t seem to soften the blow much sadly.

James nodded his head to the left and instructed me to follow. As I moved behind him I could feel the ben-wa balls stirring around inside of me, the tightness of my walls pressing on them – holding them tight.

It had been such a long time since someone wanted me to use them, I had forgotten how wonderfully distracting they could be. Just having them shift an inch was enough, god it made me want to fuck – and I knew that every minute being paraded around the parking lot was only going to make me want to give in even more. I couldn’t help but imagine James going down on me, eating my wet pussy his eyes locked on me.

We entered through the rich wooden double doors and skipped right past the check-in desk. The lady at the desk gave us one sidelong glance before ignoring us and carrying on. At this point I was desperate to just sit down, anything to make the teasing of the ben-wa balls lessen. For every moment of it I enjoyed, I knew that soon it would quickly become torture if this night were to last as long as I’d been expecting. James stopped in front of the elevator and hit the top most floor. With his half smile still on his face, he raised a brow and gestured for me to go first. The elevator doors dinged open and I waited for him to step inside.

I brushed back a locket of my hair. “Lady killers first,” I insisted. James went along first and I followed suit, the elevator doors closing behind us as we slowly ascended. I kept trying to subtly look at James, try and pick out what he was thinking and feeling. He seemed a bit distant, like he wasn’t really standing in an elevator with me but elsewhere. Maybe he was still chastising himself for earlier; he carried a melancholy around him. I bit down on my lower lip. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothin,” he said, a sigh escaping him. I stepped closer to him and placed my fingers on his chin, looking up at him as I made him face me. His expression was cool and he did not look me in the eyes.

“I see how you look at me you know,” I said. “You try to hide it but it’s so obvious,” I ran my fingers along his jaw line slowly.

He knocked my hand away and backed up what few inches he still could. “You’re wrong lass,” he argued. He still wouldn’t look me in the eye, I didn’t for one second believe the bullshit web he was trying to spin. I advanced on him again and slowly trailed my hand down his chest to his crotch. Suddenly I found my back pressed up hard against the wall of the elevator, James’ arm pressed up against my neck firmly, his eyes locked on my own. “I said,” he was practically growling through his teeth. “You. Are. Wrong.”

Previous lovers had thought me sick to get off on things like this but here I was, getting wet in an elevator with a mysterious man aggressively pinning me to a wall. It was the way his arm pushed against my neck, made it difficult to breathe even, that was what really got me. James’ deep brown eyes were lit with intensity as he looked into me, I must have struck some kind of chord.

I swallowed hard. “You’re hurting me,” I croaked, conveniently leaving out the part about enjoying it.

His expression changed completely, he didn’t realize until that very second only after I told him that he was hurting me. Even though he was looking directly at me, only then did he read me. He eased his grip against me considerably, his forearm only resting against my neck now.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his eyes drifting to the side. He closed them for a moment, didn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling right then, if it was shame or grief or some mix of many things. He opened his eyes and looked at me again before pulling away and muttering. “I can’t be interested in you.”

The room became swept with a dead silence. The weight of his words and what I can only guess he was remembering and thinking and feeling in that moment where he snapped under my pushing, hung in the air. That was when we finally came to our stop and the doors opened. Things always seem to take longer in the heat of the moment I guess.

Never been somewhere as fancy as here. Bright and golden colors, fantastic and carefully selected to set the mood. Plenty of space even for how packed it was, and a center stage for entertainment. The pizzicato of the violin tickled the senses, the musician must have spent a decade with his instrument to play it so quickly and gracefully.

There happened to be many guests, many staff and the aromas of the food wafting throughout the floor made my stomach rumble. It had been so long since I had a well prepared meal, my mouth wanted nothing more than to salivate. The scent of chicken and roses and spices and basil along with several others assailed my senses. They talked a lot about food porn, and for me this was truly that kind of moment.

James gestured for my arm to twine with his. I did so, eliciting a small smirk from him. I couldn’t help but feel just a little nervous as we walked by all the guests. Between the chatter and the music I was thankful James was without words.
 
It was a little hard to focus when in the back of my mind all I could think about was sex, pure unfiltered fucking. But I always got like that with the ben-wa balls clinking together inside of me.

Yet there was something very strange about the center of entertainment. It was an elevated part of the floor, with black silk draped steps and a glass box hanging directly about the violinist. I couldn’t wrap my head around its purpose, but nobody else seemed to pay it any mind.

After weaving in and out of the labyrinth of tables and guests we finally came to the great balcony. The view of the outside and sky was wonderful. Trees, clouds and stars as far as the eye can see. There was a man admiring the view leaning against the railing of the balcony. He looked over his shoulder in the direction of James and myself. His lips curled into a thin wolfish smile. This man did not look as he did before, it was as if his entire personality had changed since I had last seen him.

He extended a hand toward me, and I instinctively grabbed it. We shook.

He raised his brow a half inch. “Dean Underwood,” he said. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“You…” I sized Dean up, mentally comparing him to when I had last seen him in that café. “Look nothing like before,” my voice was low and had a hint of apprehension to it. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a crimson red tie, his thick head of jet black hair slicked slightly to my right. I couldn’t help but be drawn into those blue eyes, if I were a ship than he were a storm – one that pulled me, filled me with a twisted rush that only I could appreciate.

“Different days. Different people,” he said bringing his thumbs to his belt and tucking them underneath it. “Are you ready for the main event?”

“What event?” I inquired.

“Your event.” He replied. I didn’t like the sound of that.

“What do you mean?” I reactively took a half step backwards.

James glanced over to me.

Dean pointed back inside, and I spun on my heel to see that he was pointing at the center stage. “That,” Dean said. “If you can handle ten minutes in the Cage then you’re the person fit for the job – or at least part of it.” Dean then walked over to my side and whispered into my ear. “Everyone here works for me, and if you can’t handle tonight’s evening in exhibition you won’t be handling the next ones.”

All of those people. All of them staring at me, their eyes taking in every detail of my body. I could suddenly feel my heart pumping in my chest. Thrilling, but frightening. Something in the back of my mind kept telling me over and over this can’t be real – this had to be some kind of joke.

“You’re kidding.” I said.

“I’m notoriously devoid of humor,” Dean moved behind me and in one fluid motion, he calmly wrapped an arm around my waist – his presence was powerful, commanding, but he still searched for any of my disapprovals.

If my bones could only sing, it felt like I was being wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer after a long day at work. Kind of like the way my body would simply drift away after hours of finding and chopping wood and laying down in the tub. But that was neither here nor there.

Dean whispered. “You weren’t my first choice,” he growled. Here I thought I had gotten his interest too. “You were the only choice out of dozens.” In that moment I didn’t care who was watching, I simply invited his touch. His fingers moved slowly across the curves of my body, brushing against the fabric of my clothes. Between that and the ben-wa balls, all I could feel was a pulsing warmth between my legs. “The ones that were smart enough weren’t brave enough,” he stated.

“Foolish.” I corrected.

“The ones that were pretty enough couldn’t think their way out of a room and a closed door without us intervening.”

“Please,” I wormed my way from his grasp and crossed my arms. “You’re just telling me what I want to hear.”

Dean stepped closer; his eyes locked on my own with a smile tightening on his face with each step he took. “You don’t trust me,” he said quietly. “That’s good,” he suggested. “That’s really good. You can never trust someone completely.” He dripped with resentment and cynicism.

I let him approach me, quietly gave him permission to brush back the tresses of my hair. I retreated back another step, finding myself up against the wall. “People talk about you, you know. The mysterious CEO recruiting people”

“The internet is a fascinating thing,” he remarked. “A rumor here, a lie there – sometimes an exaggeration. One person shares it with another, and in turn they share it with someone else.” Dean inched closer to me. “Suddenly everything and everyone just ‘click’ and that spark ignites something that…” he smirked before giving a chuckle. “Just roars across the world for better or worse without a care.”

I couldn’t look away from his blues eyes like storms barely held back in restraint. I felt like we were the only two people that really mattered tonight. I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat and managed to cut in. “And then they forget.”

Dean’s smile widened a half inch at that. “Last week’s Old Nick is this week’s messiah,” he said. He firmly grabbed my chin and tilted my head up just a bit to judge my neckline. “I can give you everything you want, not with the snap of my fingers or with a case full of money – but with time.” He promised. Only wolves promised. “How much do you think you know?”